


Bad Relations

by Aydaptic



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Gay Relationship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Family, M/M, Roomates, Slow Burn, Smut, Star-crossed, Tenth Street Reds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2018-11-19 23:19:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11323800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aydaptic/pseuds/Aydaptic
Summary: (AU) After a stranger stumbles upon Kaidan Alenko's path, covered in blood and on the run from the police, he's unintentionally brought into the life of a famous criminal known by the name of 'Shepard.' Kaidan isn't exactly clean himself, and hell, he's willing to get his hands dirty for it to remain under wraps.Turns out that Shepard was one step ahead of him...With various artwork (by me)[For (almost) every chapter]





	1. The Normandy Nightclub

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** The alien characters are human and there are no biotics.
> 
> This is a modern AU, so even if you don't know anything about the video game series, you'll understand this fanfic just fine. I've simply used the characters in an understandable setting :)
> 
> My first AU in any fandom ever. Hope you like it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~*~

A fresh start. That’s all there was. A way to escape and start anew.

That’s exactly what Kaidan Alenko had in mind when he boarded a plane to New York after living in Vancouver his whole life. His friends and family were convinced he did so because he needed something new. A new experience away from the comforts of home. There was some truth in it. Nevertheless, he let them believe whatever they wanted to prevent the headache, and the repercussions that would follow.

The flawed truth was far more complicated than that.

It was 02:32 am on a Tuesday. Kaidan was currently in the most popular local in the busy town. ‘The Normandy Nightclub.’ It was a quaint place. Simple. Decent-sized. Full of life. So different from the conflicts just outside the upright, stony walls.

At the time around 10 pm to 2 am, it was way more lively, colored lights at the dance floor, strippers on the podiums and the usual bands they occasionally picked up. The place closed earlier on the weekdays. It was one of the few friendly places he’d visited in the early hours of his self-reliant transfer. He’d managed to get in cahoots with the owner and workers quickly, which gave him a good starting point.

“We’ve been testing out a new drink,” Samantha Traynor, one of the baristas, said. “Does the wine expert care to be our human guinea pig?”

He wasn’t really an expert, but his parents did own a vineyard, so there’s that.

Kaidan blinked. “I, uh... I mean, sure,” he said, watching a shot glass being filled and pushed his way.

He hesitated.

Grasping it between his fingers, he lifted it to his nose, giving it a whiff. Rich. It looked and smelled harmless enough. He tipped his head back and drowned the liquid, noticing the bitter burn on his tongue... then the aftertaste.

“Ugh, that... Oh, god! What even _is_ that?” he demanded.

Sam was thrown into a giggle fit.

With a wince, Kaidan pushed the glass away. “You know what? Don’t tell me. I really don’t want to know.”

The booming laughter from the bouncer -- Wrex -- echoed the local.

Wrex sure as hell was an intimidating one with his facial scars and strong build, but once you got to know him, he was really just a big old teddy bear with a heart of gold. He kept the place out of conflict and chaos. There were the occasional troublemakers that passed through, but thanks to their skilled bouncers, the stir was kept to a minimum.

Sam was lovely, quirky, and smart as all hell, her thick British accent reflecting her enthusiasm. Kind of awkward just like Kaidan at times. A natural when it came to mixing drinks.

Then again, she loved to mess with him, a gesture that was always welcomed.

The occasional barista, Garrus Vakarian, was one of a kind. A head taller than him with sharp features. He was a regular at the shooting range nearby and a deadeye shot. A rather suave individual. His beloved rifle quaintly decorating the wall behind the bar disk was his one true love. He did a lot of work with the bar, buying ingredients, taking care of the economy, calibrating the technical stuff, et cetra. Kaidan had learned that he was a police officer himself but dropped out.

Garrus wasn’t a guy that loiter as he’d rather take down the criminals, by any means necessary, than be tied to a rulebook. In other words, the profession didn’t suit him, so he applied for a job in this very club in a part of town that made its own rules.

Still, he was loyal, and he valued his friends highly.

“Just give him the usual. Damn lightweight, he is,” Ashley Williams -- his accomplice -- mused as she smirked, patting his back gingerly.

Sam smiled back, shaking her head. “Canadian lager, coming right up.”

“Lager? Man, Blue. You’ve gotta start living, amigo,” came a voice from the backroom, moving towards the bar with a strut in his steps as he threw a worn jacket onto a nearby chair.

Noting the way Ashley’s jaw had dropped, Kaidan grinned.

“I’ll think about it!” Kaidan called back, before lowering his voice and leaning in to Ashley’s ear. “He’s one of their strippers. James Vega. Don’t say I never do anything nice for you.”

Still slack-mouthed, Ashley turned to him, her full lips drawing upwards. He had brought her there for that exact reason. His grin got bigger when Ash playfully nudged his arm with an accusatory look in her eye.

Vega’s shift had just been over and he’d changed to more presentable attire. Guy was as confident as they come. Kind of a must in his profession.

Kaidan figured he’d be just the guy for Ash.

She had been dealing with family problems lately where one of her sisters recently escaped a toxic and abusive relationship. Ashley cared deeply for her sisters, so the whole ordeal had taken a lot out of her, and he wanted her to feel better. Ash herself was beautiful and headstrong. She worked with him in the police department and was like a sister to him.

“Well, hell-o beautiful...” Vega murmured, sliding up next to her. “I’ll sure as hell give you a private show... No charge.”

Ashley giggled.

 _Oh my god, did Ash just giggle?_ he thought, in awe.

He tried to suppress the idle conversation that followed Ash’s question when she poked Vega’s bicep, asking, “Are those real?”

They hit it off nicely.

Kaidan would’ve lied if he said he didn’t wish such happiness for himself, but after what happened at the police academy, he’d nearly given up love entirely. Rahna was one of the few people that had caught his eye in his lifespan of twenty-five years. She was gorgeous. Long, black hair to the shoulders, warm eyes that he could get lost in. A heart of gold. He didn’t know if she even felt the same. Then again, it didn’t matter, as things went to hell fast. They lost contact shortly after and parted ways.

He flagged it off.

Thirty minutes passed, and Sam had returned home, having an early shift the next day. At her departure, Garrus had arrived from getting more ice and fermenting fruit for their specials in the nearby 24/7 store, doing the job for the bar owner Jeff Moreau -- whom everyone just called Joker seeing that he was rarely serious -- because of his bone disease that made it difficult to move.

Kaidan was torn from his thoughts when he heard Ashley stifle a yawn with her palm. “Man... I think I’m gonna crash,” she murmured, voice sleep-deprived. “Don’t stay up too late LT, yeah?”

“I won’t. Sleep tight, Ash. I’ll see you at work,” he replied.

“You bet.”

“Want me to walk you home, cariña?” Vega piped in.

She smiled coyly. “I don’t know, Vega. Do I? Buy me a drink on Friday and I’ll might let you.”

“Yeah? You drive a hard bargain... but I can figure something out.”

With a roll of his eyes, Kaidan smirked, watching the pair approaching the exit. When Vega’s back was turned, Ashley mouthed, “I love you” to him over his shoulder. He registered the knowing wink from the Spanish Casanova right after.

Kaidan gingerly waved them out.

“Hell, I better get back home to get enough hours for my shift as well,” he said. “Need help closing up?”

Garrus pulled out a rag to clean the bar disk. “Nah, don’t worry. I’ll finish up here. It’s probably just one or two bloodstains here and there... and, if I’m lucky, no one has passed out by the toilet bowl again.”

With a grin, Kaidan shook his head.

“I appreciate the offer, but you should honestly get some sleep,” Garrus added. “If you hoped for a lazy posting, I’m sorry to disappoint you. Downtown New York isn’t exactly the friendliest place on earth. Get my meaning?”

“Yeah, I got you. Still, better than my original post,” he muttered, offering a careful smile.

Garrus was one of the few people who knew why he left in the first place. A conversation brought up after a couple drinks and shared experiences. He was determined to keep it that way.

Drowning the remaining liquid, Kaidan rose from the barstool.

He gave a wave. “Night, Garrus. Thanks for the drinks.”

Kaidan stepped out of the club only to hear a clattering sound coming from his peripheral vision.

He turned his head.

The silhouette of a man in the dim streetlights appeared to have hit his foot in a trashcan only to prop a hand to the wall besides to maintain his balance. It was dark, so he couldn’t make out a face, but the man didn’t look in the best of shapes in his hunched state. He was probably drunk and came from the less crowded bar down the streets. Kaidan had seen a lot of those guys ever since he arrived from Vancouver.

Better intervene before the man hurt himself.

Kaidan cleared his throat. “Excuse me, sir. Are you all ri -? Oh, god.”

Only then did he see the thick, red liquid emerging from his hand-clasped abdomen.

Before he could react, the man collapsed right there before him.

Quick on his feet, Kaidan launched to his aid, barging his hip into the railing in which a pain swept up his body only to be ignored. The now unconscious man was losing blood fast. Kaidan cursed under his breath, knowing he had to get him patched up before it was too late. There was no sign of spinal injury, so he took a firm grip of his body, throwing him over his shoulders before pushing up the door.

With a startled look, Garrus’ eyes ascended, turning twice their size as he saw the baggage he was carrying.

“Med-kit. Fast,” Kaidan said, strangled under the weight.

He felt the thick substance traversing down his neck. His hands were soaked in dark red. Carrying the body to a nearby couch, he saw Garrus quickly drop the cloth he used to wash the bar disk, rushing to get the essentials.

Shifty eyes searched the wound as he crouched down before him. Hell, he was no medic. Everything he knew was that he needed to get that bullet out before the man suffered from blood poisoning. He couldn’t see the culprit. That made things one hell of a lot more difficult, and neither did he want to make a mistake, so he could do nothing but pray that Garrus had encountered a situation like this in the past.

Gently tilting the man’s head back, he made sure he was breathing, soothing him when a steady rhythm was presented.

“My apologies, but do any of you happen to know where I can find -? Oh, my...” came a feminine voice from the entrance, causing his attention to adjust. He hadn’t noticed the door swinging up.

The woman wore a doctor’s garb. Now that’s exactly what they needed right now. A professional.

Garrus’ head poked out from the backroom as he with fast-paced steps approached them.

She rushed over. “Please, I am a doctor. Allow me to help.”

With delicate fingers, the woman began fumbling through the purse latched around her shoulder before fishing out an ID. She gave it to Garrus. His expression as he searched the words told him it was legit.

Without hesitation, Kaidan nodded.

“You, uh... you need me to do anything -?” he asked, as she couched down next to him.

“Yes, please. Do you have gauze?” she replied, her hands busy with the wound.

Garrus rummaged through the med-kit, looking far more on-edge than he’d ever seen him before somewhat stiffly holding out a bottle.

“Uh... it’s this, right?”

“Thank you. Give it to your friend, here,” she said, gesturing over to Kaidan. “Put pressure here. I need to prevent any more blood from pouring out. We need to stop the bleeding before doing anything else. It does not look like he has any punctured lungs or damaged organs.”

The woman pressed two fingers to the man’s wrist to find a pulse while Kaidan soaked the clean cloth Garrus had brought with him in gauze.

Ten stressful minutes went slower than expected, and the wound had stopped bleeding, so the woman didn’t waste a moment to start looking for the bullet. It had gone straight through. Thankfully.

“We appreciate the help, Miss -?” Kaidan tried.

Her cheeks flushed red. “Oh. My name is Liara. Liara T’Soni. I... only recently transferred to the local hospital,” she replied as a small, sheepish smile breached the surface of her lips. “I was to ask for directions, although I came eye-to-eye with this situation we find ourselves in. I would shake your hand, but...” She held them up, the thin red layer coating them.

“There’s a sink in the backroom,” he said, smiling back. Her own grew and she nodded before rising.

Garrus cleared his throat, moving out of her way as she took to her feet.

With a sigh, Kaidan’s eyes fluttered shut.

Only when he opened them again did he get a good look at the stranger.

It was a young man, probably in his early twenties, with spiked dark brown hair about two and a half inches. A worn leather jacket with red marks cradled his broad shoulders. There were oil stains all over the fabric and torn holes in his grey jeans, the rim ragged, realization dawning that this man wasn’t of the wealthier families that spread across downtown New York. His cheekbones were prominent, his features unlined, a youthful appearance ushering over his relaxed state. A breathing light enough to allow comfort. Peace.

Kaidan shook his head, brushing his thoughts away from the current observations, knowing this man had just been on the verge of becoming vulture snacks for no less than fifteen minutes ago.

“I need to get him to the station so he can explain what happened.”

Garrus hesitated. “Kaidan, that’s... not a good idea. I know him. He’s not on the best terms with the police.”

“Wait, what?” he asked, brows furrowing. “Garrus, if you know something -”

“He’s not a bad guy.”

“I don’t -Hell, who is he? You know I can have you taken in for hearing.”

“His name is Sh -John. A regular. He’s like a brother to me. Admiral Anderson took him in after he was orphaned on the streets. I really don’t want to make things more difficult than it already is, so don’t do anything before Anderson gets back,” he replied, with a noticeably soft edge to his voice. “Let’s just say you’re both running from something.”

Kaidan swallowed hard.

“He can’t stay here, can he?” he tried. Garrus’ clenched jaw was answer enough. “Guess I’ll have to keep him at my place until then.”

He owed Garrus that much. He owed him more than he ever would be able to repay.

Still... housing a damn criminal for the vicinity of three weeks?

He didn’t even know his birthed last name.

Things just got a lot more complicated.


	2. A Matter of Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“He was about to spill it!”_   
>  _\- John Shepard_
> 
> In which the boys meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N, *TRIGGER WARNING*:** Brief mention of violence.
> 
> ~*~

**THREE DAYS EARLIER...**

_/One peaceful day was apparently too much to ask._

_“What the hell, Finch?!”_

_“Fuck man, I -I panicked, okay?”_

_“He was about to spill it!” John snapped._

_He squinted down at the already torture-mangled body by his feet, now with a hole in the head. Thick, red blood emerged from the wound, filling the visible, scurried cracks of the worn asphalt that had taken numerous lives in the past. He steeled himself though the metallic odor permeating his nostrils._

_Despite all of his years consisting of drug deals, alleyway shootings and bar fights, he wished he’d never gotten used to the smell._

_John looked up, scowling at the gun in Finch’s hand that was waved around like a damn swatter “...and put that thing away before you shoot your fucking foot off, or worse, mine.”_

_“What, you goin’ all soft on us, Shep? Hell, we don’t need him!” Finch argued, the desperation clear in his voice._

_“That guy was the only one who knew where the stash was. Because of your happy fucking trigger finger, we’ve gotta report back that you screwed up big time. Hell, you put *both* our asses on the line.”_

_“Keep talkin’ like this, and the Reds are gonna question your reliability.”_

_“Finch. I swear to god, one more word...”_

_“And what -?” he began, palms forward when a step startled him back. “Okay, man! Okay! Fucking chill! We -we’ll figure it out, yeah?”_

_He kept talking, but in his effort, John also stopped listening._

_Finch shoved the gun back in his pants, in his fidgety state missing it twice. “Okay, okay. This is fucked. There’s... Wh -wait! Maybe he’s got somethin’ on him...”_

_John was unable to tell him to keep it down before Finch fell to the body, patting down the various pockets. His own exhale was loud as he combed stressed fingers through his hair._

_He paced the spot._

_Just a simple meetup, an exchange of information, and Finch just had to fuck it up._

_This was why John Shepard preferred to work alone -- less chance of compromising anything -- but their boss had insisted the exchange was a two-man’s job. It was as cut and dried as it could get. Meet the contact, get a little friendly, get a little sly and then introduce him to a pair of thumping fists if he didn’t talk. The information would arrive shortly after. It always did._

_Everything was just peachy until Finch decided to be a downright nuisance that couldn’t keep his finger still when bloodied, gurgled curses were thrown at John’s face._

_*This guy...*_

_John obviously held the ranks of both brain and brawn in this collaboration of two._

_Scenarios of the following repercussions traipsed his mind like faceless shadows. Their boss had been in contact with a cocaine drug lord to form alliances, and if the guy didn’t get his stuff, it was bound to start a war. There was a new narcotic on the market. Red Sand. Shit would get you high in but a sniff, and big surprise, the biggest junkies wanted their hands on it._

_Obtaining it wasn’t easy and the informant lying dead before them knew where to get it._

_They were back to square one._

_John had enough crap to deal with, his adoptive father being a police officer investigating the gang wars, John trying to keep quiet about it. David Anderson acknowledged his connection with the Tenth Street Reds. It was among them he found him in the first place, 7 years old and already a criminal. He’d bumped into him by the local gas station, inconspicuously trying to hide an energy bar that wasn’t exactly his. David paid the cashier for it and took him to the police department. Everything changed then. His involvement didn’t make things any easier._

_“No, no, no... C’mon, c’mon! This -this is bullshit, he’s got to have some -Fuck!” Finch cursed, desperate skirting any piece of flappable cloth that could hide anything beneath._

_Nothing._

_To put a fine point on it, they were royally fucked._

_That gunshot was bound to have alerted someone. They’d better get the hell away from there before they were both jammed behind bars, thrown into the same damn cell, because he wouldn’t survive with Finch in that close proximity for even just a night._

_One more minute companioning his obnoxiousness and he’d might turn that gun on himself._

_Luckily, John knew how to disappear./_

 

*

“Ash, this is really not the time,” Kaidan said into the phone, pressing a thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. The faint twitch behind his eye was a sour reminder that a migraine was inevitable.

 _“Oh c’mon, LT! Give me some details,”_ she prompted, voice sultry. _“Is he cute?”_

He really shouldn’t’ve expected anything different calling up Ashley Williams that Kaidan ‘dependable’ Alenko was skipping work today. Especially after letting her know that a guy was staying at his place.

Attempting to ignore the throbbing of his head, he cleared his throat.

Didn’t work.

“He was in a bad state when I found him. The guy had been drinking and needed a place to be. I wasn’t just about to leave him out on the streets like that, as we both know that this part of New York isn’t exactly the friendliest local. You’ve got constant drug deals, gang wars, forced prostitution, alleyway shootings...” he enumerated with an open hand, choosing his words carefully.

It wasn’t a direct lie, either. Kaidan actually did smell alcohol on his breath.

_“You’re such a damn saint, Kaid. Live a little! I mean, hell, when’s the last time you got laid?”_

“Ash,” he warned.

_“I’m just saying! C’mon, indulge me.”_

He knew she wouldn’t let this go.

“He’s... average.”

There was silence on the other end.

_“Man, you’re a terrible liar.”_

...and that’s why he never lied to her.

Kaidan let out a long sigh. “Look. Right now, I just need to get him someplace safe and away from prying eyes. He’s still unconscious,” he said, measuring the bar disk with practiced eyes.

_“What color do you think his eyes are?”_

“Ash.”

 _“Okay, okay! I’ll drop it. You keep your mystery man McDreamy to yourself,”_ she replied, him having sworn he heard her languid eye roll. _“Just... I want you to be happy, yeah?”_

The soft edge to her tone didn’t go unnoticed.

“I know, but right now, it... it’s not the time, Ash,” he said, closing his eyes in attempt to suppress the memories.

Although Ash didn’t know the details about the incident regarding Rahna, he’d told her fragments of the story. How nauseous he felt when Rahna looked at him with nothing but horror reflected in her usually soft, kind eyes. How she changed him. How he wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for her rejection. The whole thing left a bad taste in his mouth.

_“I get it, okay. Take your time. Just find someone before your hair falls out.”_

“You’re all-heart, Ash,” he said half-heartedly.

_“Stop worrying though, yeah? I’ll take your shift. You do you.”_

“I appreciate that.”

_“You bet your butt you owe me lunch for this.”_

He smiled. “Deal.”

 _“...and get his number!”_ she whispered, before hanging up.

Kaidan had requested scoping out the perimeter from his superiors. See if he could find something to indicate what happened. Considering other options was the sensible choice, as he’d picked up on that John would most likely refuse to cooperate. Garrus’ allegation that John was “not on the best terms with the police” gave him the general gist of an idea.

He acted with caution not to give too much away to Admiral Steven Hackett that he’d run into the victim in the recent alleyway shooting, mindful of Garrus’ words, which only increased his curiosity in seeing things through.

Still, it didn’t make him any less uncomfortable lying to Ash.

Ashley was a smart woman. She would immediately connect the dots if he told her that he’d found a guy, bleeding out, right around the time when the gunshot was sounded. The music at the Normandy must’ve suppressed the sound as it happened.

He was thankfully allowed to proceed in his investigation.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t go straight away, as Garrus advised against leaving John with him for more than one night. Not only that, but he had bloodstains on his suit, presenting him with the possibility of misjudgment and confounding. Showing in public would be imprudent. He really didn’t want to be falsely convinced for attempted murder.

That would look bad on his résumé.

Deciding to check up on John, he pushed up the backroom door.

The rich smell of burning tobacco stirred his nerves.

Surprisingly enough, John was awake, propped up and leant back in the office chair. A cigarette rested between his pouty, full lips, being the odor culprit. He chewed lightly at the tip. One of his feet were gingerly thrown up on the table before him.

Kaidan’s wandering gaze fell to a prominent, brown-ish assortment of ink resembling a less opacity black, a tribal tattoo circling his right bicep. Three stripes like thorn bushes. It was located about an inch below the rim of his dark grey t-shirt, and judging by how it seemed to be just a tad bit too small as it pressed his torso -- revealing jutted pecs and abs -- it had to be Garrus’.

He was slimmer.

“How’d a cop end up babysitting me?” John asked, not looking up.

Kaidan frowned. “How did you know I was a -?”

He closed his eyes briefly when a flicker of light nearly blinded him, shielding it with his palm. He noticed that John held something clasped between his blood-stained knuckles. If he had to guess, the cracking of skin had certainly played a part in his little spat on the streets. A lamp had reflected on the handheld metal and it didn’t take long before he registered what it was.

Kaidan felt the panic build. He quickly patted one of the side-clasps of his pants, fingers encountering nothing but smooth fabric, eyes falling to confirm its absence.

He looked up to see John turning Kaidan’s detective badge in his hands, expression deadpan. John removed the cigarette, propping it between his index and middle finger while he brushed a thumb against the inscriptions.

“Alenko, right?” he cited, his monotone voice revealing nothing to the public. “That Russian or something?”

“Ukrainian,” Kaidan replied, keeping his cards close. He pushed his suit-jacket aside, propping hands to his hips to encounter the refined, white cotton fabric beneath. “What exactly did Vakarian tell you?”

John shrugged. “Not much. You’re a cop and you’re not here to arrest me. That’s all I need to know.”

_Not the talkative type, I see._

“Right,” Kaidan muttered. “Well, then. Let’s start from the beginning. We didn’t get properly introduced.”

Kaidan released his hips and reached out with a flat palm. Better be civil to reduce the risk of an incident. He wanted John on his good side for this to work. Information didn’t come cheap and trust went a long way.

He’d learned that the hard way.

His heart took a leap when an iron grip enveloped his wrist. He reached for his gun. The reaction was unnecessary, as John simply flipped his hand palm-up, the badge shoved into it.

Warmth lingered when he was released. The pressure remained like a spectral touch.

“John,” he simply said.

That was one way to shake hands.

Bewildered, Kaidan just looked at the metal. He straightened, fighting the urge to rub the area of effect. When he peeked up beneath his lashes, the deadpan expression on John’s face was impossible to decipher.

Kaidan flicked the badge back onto his belt. “Just ‘John,’ huh? There’s no last name to that?”

Better check if Garrus’ story added up.

“Anderson,” John replied, lifting the cigarette back to his lips and dropped his hand. “You probably know my dad already unless that badge is just for show. I’m drawing a couple blanks, but what do you want to know?”

Kaidan’s brows shot up, ignoring his somewhat rude remark while he tipped his head down as if a different perspective would clear everything up. The cooperation took him off-guard. His pre-judgment was embarrassing, if not disrespectful, as he certainly hadn’t expected that kind of courtesy. There wasn’t even an ounce of resistance in John’s voice.

Either he was a damn good liar, or he was innocent, Kaidan hoping the latter.

“I, uh... okay. What happened?” Kaidan asked, shoving his hands back into the pockets of his trousers.

“I was heading home from a bar downtown when a friend, Chase, pulled me aside.”

“Wait, _he_ did this -?” he demanded, gesturing to the wound.

John moved a hand to rub his shoulder, probably to remove a kink in his neck. “Not him, no. Five guys jumped us. Turns out that he’d made a deal with ‘em to get me alone.”

“Christ,” Kaidan whispered, looking away briefly. “Do you know who they were?”

He shrugged again. “It was dark.”

“You didn’t recognize any of their voices?”

John took a moment before answering. “Not that I can tell.”

Narrowing his eyes to slits, he didn’t color himself convinced. Kaidan decided to shrug it off. He didn’t know the guy, so he wasn’t qualified to make such a judgment. John wasn’t exactly trembling with uncertainty, so he chose to believe him.

For now.

“...and your partner?” he prompted.

“Left me to bleed out,” John said as he dropped his second foot and leant back, spreading his knees wide like he owned the place.

Kaidan’s eyes fell down as his brows furrowed.

_What an ass._

His reply was simple, seeming undisturbed by the fact that his own friend sold him out like that. From what he had picked up, John wasn’t a bad guy. Just a man -- and kind of a dipshit, really, but that was beside the point -- in the right place at the wrong time.

That did ease his concerns of sharing his apartment with him.

Kaidan sighed. “All right. We should probably get moving before the worst crowd arrives.”

“We?”

“I see Garrus forgot to mention how you’ll be staying at my place for the next few weeks.”

John’s nose crinkled. “I... see. Wasn’t aware of that. I don’t stay at the same place for a longer period than one night. Less complicated that way and a smaller risk of getting caught. I can’t even pull 5 dollars out of my ass, and your place is probably way too high-priced for my ‘currency’,” he said, with air quotes. “I appreciate the offer, I do, but I’m in the red here.”

“I’ve got it covered.”

If reading into the way John’s brow arched, it was obvious that this essence of formality was foreign to him.

Kaidan offered his hand, the gaze before him falling to the outstretched limb. John didn’t move. He was about to take it back, assuming it was in vain, but then sapphire hue met his whiskey-brown and without effort pinned him in place.

His throat went dry.

Not before now did he realize the intensity of those orbs.

They were _very_ blue.

John seemed to hesitate, but he shortly after accepted his offer of help. The grip was just as firm. John wobbled slightly when he stood, but Kaidan splayed a hand on his chest to keep him upright. He felt strained muscles flex underneath his palm. A weak grunt had escaped John’s lips although he was convinced he’d made sure his pull was as sufficient but gentle.

“Sorry. C’mon,” Kaidan said, pulling back with a tilt of his head in the general direction of the door.

If John had spent a good portion of his life on the streets, he was without doubt fit and knew how to throw a punch. Kaidan had been prone to such unpleasantness, but he’d grown up at a fairly peaceful local that made the use of his brawn pointless if weighted up against all those times he’d used his wits. Self-defense was obligatory in the Special Forces.

In any event, unnecessary violence had no presence in his dictionary.

With a swipe of his hand, John grabbed his leather jacket neatly thrown over the same chair and slapped it over his shoulder before following him out. By the bar disk, he stumped the cigarette at the back of his palm and launched it into the ashtray. John wrestled into the leather.

As they headed for the exit, Kaidan cast a glance Garrus’ way, giving a nod.

He nodded back.

There was no need to exchange words.

Once the door flew open, a gush of wind made him shiver. The rumble of car engines swooping by interrupted the current ghostly silence. One of the first things he noticed about New York was the slightly colder temperatures in comparison to Vancouver, as the winds dancing from the Pacific was warmer than the northwestern breeze. The arctic region winds was usually blocked by Canada’s mountains.

He cast an eye over his shoulder to see John pull the collar of his jacket well up to his cheeks.

Good to know he wasn’t overreacting.

Eyes still set on John’s form, he watched him fish up a pack of cigarettes and prop a stray between his lips. John flicked up a lighter and set it aflame. With a short huff of air, his hands went back into the warmth of his jeans to block out the cold.

Judging by how affected John appeared to be by the temperature, one would’ve thought that Kaidan was the one to grow up here.

He’d noticed the chill, sure, but John acted as if it was fifty degrees Celsius below zero.

It was... kind of cute.

Kaidan coughed into his hand, tearing his eyes away.

_Bad call, Alenko. This guy probably wouldn’t think twice about pulling out a pocket knife and stabbing you in an dark, damp alley by the dumpsters for nothing but a pack of cigarettes and a piece of old gum._

Yeah, he was definitely being unfair.

John had been unconscious for about fifteen hours, the clock soon chiming 7 pm, Kaidan having kept a watchful eye over him like a hawk. He chose to be there in case he woke up and needed anything.

He couldn’t help but notice that John had stirred a lot in his sleep. Nightmares, most likely. Kaidan had nearly reached out as he lay on that bed, but after considering the act of accidentally startling him, he abstained. There was thankfully a steadier rhythm to his breathing after the worst was over. John was most likely a criminal, he knew that, but he wished no form of pain inflicted upon him.

Kaidan had no idea how he managed to piss off the police department in the first place, but it was enough to make him uneasy.

The dim city lights illuminated their usual spots, below the curve of dark lamps, the dusted pollution conceded beneath the beams like wisps. It was a quiet evening. His car was parked a couple blocks away thanks to the absence of applicable spots -- about a ten minutes distance walk -- so he was thankful the weather broadcast hadn’t reported any signs of rain.

Unfortunately, that didn’t keep his head from throbbing.

He closed his eyes.

“You ok?”

Kaidan turned his head. “Huh?”

“You look kinda pale, is all,” John said, disinterested looking at the ground before him.

_Of course he’d notice._

Kaidan steeled his eyes forward. “I’m good. Just a headache. How’s the wound?”

“Kinda sore,” he replied with a one-shouldered shrug, circling the joint as he pressed at the undoubtedly tight muscle there. John said nothing more as they kept walking.

When they reached the car, he felt intense eyes upon him.

“Look,” Kaidan said abruptly, voice firm as he stopped in his tracks. “It’s a headache. I’m no less capable than any other functional human being, so if you don’t mind, I’d rather not have this conversation.”

With a lazy nod, John pursed his mouth.

Kaidan pulled open the door of his car, dropped down and let the boiling of his blood go unnoticed. He didn’t need this right now. The familiar jingle filled the otherwise silent approach as he fumbled with his keys. The sound of another door opening and closing was all he heard before he shoved the correct key into the ignition, turned the usual half-circle and started the engine.

John had discarded the cigarette outside.

Thoughtful of him.

He’d dealt with cooperative suspects before, but this was something else entirely.

Throwing his arm onto the shoulder of his seat, eyes falling to the road behind, Kaidan made sure he didn’t accidentally trigger an alarm by bumping into anything. Parallel parking was a nightmare. The migraine hadn’t kicked in yet, so he knew he was able to drive without having to worry about passing out. He was responsible enough not to endanger both his own and John’s life.

After a couple cars swept by, he pressed the gas at his turn.

Against his better judgment, Kaidan cast his eyes towards the seat beside with a singular hand at the wheel.

John’s head was thrown back to the backrest and his arms folded across his chest. His eyes closed shut. Despite the irony that he was sitting in a cop’s car, he looked pretty damn relaxed.

There was no doubt that he was nice to look at, but Kaidan had no intentions acting upon that observation.

Cozying up with a suspect really wasn’t a good publicity stunt.

Swallowing his stubbornness, Kaidan fixated his eyes forward as they should.

“Look,” he began. “Sorry about earlier. We really didn’t start off on the right foot, and... I didn’t mean to come out as an ass.”

“They consistent?”

Kaidan blinked, surprised he even gave a damn. “My headaches? I, uh... no, not really. Six times a month, maybe. It was worse before,” he replied, a scowl accompanying his gaze as some guy managed to cut into the queue before him.

“So... migraines?”

“I tend to call them headaches.”

“Tough-guy, huh?”

He could’ve sworn he heard a hint of smile in John’s usually monotone voice.

Kaidan opened his mouth, once again taken aback as he cast him a quick glance to make sure his ears hadn’t simply betrayed him. They hadn’t. His eyes fell to see a small smirk, barely noticeable, that had curved his lips. He watched the attractive form in a span longer than considered appropriate. Full, how it used to curve around a cigarette, a thin line between his upper lip line and five o’clock shadow, somewhat chapped and worn while still managing to look incredibly soft.

Frowning, he looked up just to catch the curious twitch of John’s brow.

The road regained his attention.

 _Tough-guy,_ he mused, taking the statement in.

Kaidan’s hand closed around the wheel. “I don’t try to be, it just... it gets tiring to hear all the time, you know?”

“I get that.”

 

*

“John.”

“Hmm?” he uttered, cracking one eye open.

“We’re here.”

John briefly searched his surroundings. “Right,” he grumbled, and pushed up the door. A low, guttural sound colored the silence, and as he looked John’s way, he saw him clasping the gunshot wound again.

“Everything all right?”

“I think I pulled out the fucking stitches.”

“Yeah? I can fix you up inside. There’s a store open 24/7 down the road, so if I don’t have what I need, I’ll take a trip over,” he replied, shooting his thumb above his shoulder.

John nodded his answer before following him in.

Kaidan’s apartment was at the tenth floor, giving a wondrous view of the city, the skyscrapers standing tall and dots of people filling the busy streets. The dark, dynamic shadows cast by the silhouettes during the evening was a sight to behold. The beauty wasn’t something you could just picture. You had to see it. Standing at the porch when the sun set with a beer in hand was one of his favorite pastimes.

The elevator trip was spent in the suffocating silence, and Kaidan was thankful. The less noise, the better. The pulsing behind his temples had considerably increased its tempo on the way.

Reaching the door, he pulled it open for John to go first.

John stepped in, eyes surveying the local, hands deep in his pockets. Shrugging off his own jacket, Kaidan latched it onto the coat stand before marching his way towards the coffee table.

“Nice place.”

Kaidan made a humming sound to register he’d heard him. “If I’d known I’d be bringing someone in here, I would’ve cleaned the place up a bit,” he said, collecting a bunch of discarded magazines to shove aside.

“Nah, it’s fine.”

Arching a brow, Kaidan didn’t quite know what to make out of the man before him.

He shook off the thought.

“All right. Start working that shirt off and I’ll go grab the essentials,” he said as he put down the magazines, disappearing into the restroom.

The med kit was easy to locate. Behind the crystalline glass above the sink, a spot of red stood out from the white background, making an easy target. It was all there as he zipped it halfway open. Even had a syringe and antiseptic.

Kaidan looked up, staring at the reflection of himself. He looked awful. Bags had begun to form underneath his now dulled eyes, hair somewhat unkempt that had him automatically card a hand through it.

Didn’t help, though.

His migraines had their ratio pain levels -- dull, medium, painful, really painful and then downright insufferable as if nails were dragged across a chalkboard, accompanied by a construction drill.

Judging how his eyes strained, he found himself in the stadium between level four and five.

Composing himself, he put on an act to appear just peachy.

He swallowed a painkiller with a glass of water and headed out.

Working his way back to the living room, his gaze fell to John hunched over the couch, palms propped to the surface of the backrest. His back now bare. There was another tattoo, same color. This time it was located on his left shoulder blade, a hollow ring with what appeared to be a wing in its center, resembling the wingspan of an angel.

The blood had gone through the bandage, so he’d most definitely pulled loose those stitches.

To show his presence, Kaidan cleared his throat. “Take a seat.”

John removed the covering, discarding it in a nearby bin before plopping down.

Kaidan sat next to him, squaring an ankle over his knee. “You don’t have a phobia against needles, eh?”

“Having been on the streets for some time in the past, you’re lucky to avoid it.”

_Drugs, in other words._

“Right.”

John’s mouth curled in contempt. “You, uh... you done this before?”

“Once or twice,” he mumbled, unscrewing the cork and dipping the needle into the sloth, watching it suck in its liquid content. “I’m not exactly a medic, but I know the basic stuff. Learned it from my dad. I don’t have a clue how to reassess the damage and consider what to do about it, but thankfully, the woman who gave you those stitches got it covered. She warned they’d might loosen.”

Kaidan pressed two fingers above the wound to steady his hands.

Knowing how annoyed he himself got whenever he heard “here comes a tiny prick,” he just peeked up as the needle hovered over the flushed skin, meeting his eye. He wasn’t protesting. There was a brief clench in John’s jaw when it was in.

Kaidan gradually emptied the tube before pulling out again.

It took five minutes before it had kicked in. Reattaching the stitches was done without any problem whatsoever, and he felt a hint of pride swell up in his chest, which was kind of pathetic. It was an injection. Not exactly something to be proud of. He wrapped up the wound in a bandage -- with less precision -- like Liara had done before.

It didn’t bleed through, so he must’ve done something right.

“How long’s this woozy feeling gonna last, Doc?”

“Thirty minutes, tops,” he replied as he rose. “I’d advice against alcohol, but you should get some food into your system. I assume you didn’t get the chance to eat. I can conjure something up. Any specific wishes?”

“I’m open as long as it doesn’t taste like cardboard.”

The weak twitch of Kaidan’s lips was quickly gone as he dragged a hand across his face to hide it, clearing his throat.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N, *TRIGGER WARNING*:** The shoulder blade tattoo is the PARAGON symbol for reference.


	3. Bargaining Chip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“...nothing is as black and white as people seem to believe.”_   
>  _\- Kaidan Alenko_
> 
> In which Kaidan finds out who 'John' truly is after investigating the crime scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** It's been a while... A lot has been happening in my life -- and is still happening -- but I promise wholeheartedly that I'll finish this story. I have school on Saturdays now as well, so I have little time to write, except from my vacations.
> 
> Hope you guys can remain patient with me.
> 
> ~*~

Kaidan was just about to bring another egg to the skillet when the doorbell chimed over the brewing coffee on the kitchen isle.

Frowning, he put it down on a piece of paper and grabbed a rag to clean his hands. He slapped it onto the counter and rubbed a thumb against the tight muscle around his neck in attempt to untangle the knots.

He hadn’t expected any visitors.

His eyes were yet groggy with sleep. The smell of caffeine wafted through the air, crushed beans and boiling water in their joined state, bitter and requesting sweetening. He had forgotten to brew it the night before in his distracted state of getting John settled in. The migraine had mended during his hibernation, and even if a faint throbbing was yet present, it’d vanish with a couple painkillers on the road.

Pulling up the door, he blinked awake.

“Vega?”

“Hey, Blue. Figured I’d drop by with that vid I borrowed a couple weeks ago. Finally got around to watching it,” Vega said, handing it over.

It was a documentary about a Spec Ops military branch and its expectations.

Despite his job at the Normandy during shore leaves, Vega was a soldier in the military. Guy couldn’t relax. He was usually too stuck up in his muscle memory to sit still, and frankly, he didn’t seem to know the definition of ‘shore leave.’

‘Blue,’ however, was Vega’s nickname for him simply because it was Kaidan’s favorite color.

Vega had been written up for commendation in joining up with the N7 Spec Ops program. They were among the best, a level above the Navy Seals when hostage situations and complicated matters needed an even more delicate touch.

He had been binge watching documentaries like that one in hope it’d help him decide whether to apply or not.

Kaidan had his very own Spec Ops program in Vancouver -- The Division -- and got up to the rank of first lieutenant. That was why Vega came to him in the first place. Vega, being younger than he was, regarded Kaidan as a role model. It was flattering to be held in such an esteemed regard and nice knowing your efforts at one place carried over to another.

From Vancouver to New York. Some things you couldn’t outrun.

Kaidan smiled. “Made up your mind?”

“I like it!” he said while rolling his neck, seeming contented when a small crack was sounded. “It’ll be tough, no doubt, but some of these pendejos needs some real _meat_ on the field.”

“I still stand by my word. I’ve seen you in action, Vega. You’re a natural born leader.”

“Thanks, man. That means a lot coming from you. You ever think you’ll rejoin the forces?”

Kaidan let out a nervous chuckle. “As much as I’d like to, I’m, uh... I’m content right here. Detective work can be tiresome at times. Especially with the recent gang wars that’s broken out here.”

“What, sitting on your lazy ass all day pushing papers? Man, you’re getting old,” Vega teased.

“Old... yeah, I won’t deny that.”

Twenty-five was apparently ancient to Vega.

Lazy, however, was far from the truth.

Kaidan couldn’t share his alliance with the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance branch with the public -- SPECTRE for short -- without risking to never see the light of day again. It was all very hush-hush. Just like the Navy Seals and N7, delicate operations was his game, and he happened to be considered one of the best players on the field.

In truth, Kaidan rarely got a moment to himself as his constant assignments from the higher ups kept piling on the already huge stacks.

He was starting to run out of space.

Vega grinned. “C’mon, Blue. There’s still some fight left in y -”

In but a moment, Vega’s gaze appeared to be looking straight past him.

Aware of the sudden change of demeanor, Kaidan turned around. Only then did he remember that they weren’t exactly alone. Without a single worry in the world, John stood leaning to the doorway, a bowl of cereal in hand.

“Sup?” John asked, chewing silently.

_Right._

“Hey... Loco!” Vega said, a quizzical smile spreading on his face. “The hell are you doing here, man?”

_Loco?_

Vega apparently needed a moment to take in the scene before him when his gaze fell on Kaidan. Then a slow, smugness folded across his lips that made Kaidan want to punch him.

“I, uh... I take it you two know each other?” Kaidan tried.

“Sure do,” John said, eyes not moving from Vega. “Surprised you weren’t showing up in your jock strap.”

“Sorry, Loco. This guy goes for the Lolas’.”

“Your loss. Hell, you haven’t really lived until you’ve had a nice cock up your ass,” he replied, giving him a wink.

Vega chuckled. “I’ll, uh... take your word for it. Came by to drop off some stuff I borrowed,” he said, shooting a thumb over his shoulder. “Didn’t know Blue here had a new boyfriend. From what I recall, it didn’t work too hot with the previous one.”

Kaidan sighed. “He wasn’t -”

“Oh, good. I thought you were cheating on me,” John piped in before he could finish, his gaze deadpan directed at Kaidan. “I’m gonna hit the showers. You’ll take it from here, right, dear?”

John pushed past him, Kaidan’s breath hitching as a hand came in contact with his ass, the whack of it having him slightly lift off the ground.

A new shade of red filled his cheeks.

John disappeared into the kitchen to discard of the dish.

Kaidan cleared his throat. “We’re, uh... we’re not actually dating, we’re... he was -he was joking,” he stumbled through his words, well aware of his pathetic and not at all convincing reply.

Vega whistled. “Man, you’re in deep.”

“He’s not exactly my type.”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” he teased again, giving him a nudge. “I guess this explains why Ash had to cancel that coffee, though.”

Kaidan winced. “I’m sorry I came between your plans.”

“Don’t worry, Blue. It’s cool.”

“I take it you guys are really hitting it off, huh?”

Vega hesitated. “Sure. She’s great. Feisty. Way too early to call it ‘going steady,’ but we’ve agreed to start dating,” he replied, and the smile returned to Kaidan’s lips.

“That’s seriously great. I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks. Anyways, I’m gonna leave you two lovesick pendejos alone,” he said, winking.

Kaidan’s eyes went skyward, and for a moment he worried he’d might pull something. He just got a full belly laugh and a wave in return before Vega disappeared down the hallway.

He and Ash were _definitely_ meant for one another.

Closing the door after him, he pressed his forehead to the cold wood in attempt to cool down the previous embarrassment that had yet to remove the color from his cheeks. He stood there in the silence for a moment. Eventually pushing away from the solid surface, he made his way back to the kitchen to finish what he was making and getting it into his system.

The coffee was ready, so he swept up a mug as well and ended up watching a news broadcast about the current shootout. The department couldn’t share classified information -- not having any solid answers -- so they had little to add when the reporters swooped in like starved beasts.

His phone rang.

Shuffling the device up, he looked at the number.

Kaidan cleared his throat before moving it to his ear. “Samara, hey. Everything all right?”

 _“Everything is fine, child,”_ she replied, the smile transparent in her motherly voice. _“As you might have heard on the news, there was a shootout in a nearby ally close to Apollo’s Café.”_

“Yeah, I uh... I heard about that. Anything new?”

_“I am afraid we have not turned up anything solid just yet, but Detective Ashley Williams is investigating the fallout. She requested your presence at the crime scene in thirty minutes. Williams had a few matters to attend to herself, so I offered to pass the word along.”_

“All right. Let her know that I’ll be there.”

_“I shall. We also received the call from a man who seemed rather troubled, distressed, claiming he was a witness. He is at the crime scene. His name is Chase Reynolds. Let me know if anything is unearthed.”_

“Thanks for the heads-up, Samara.”

 _“You are welcome. I wish you good luck, Detective,”_ she replied, and hung up.

Kaidan let the received information sink in.

_Chase..._

He wondered if it was the same guy that John claimed to have sold him out.

Kaidan reached over to the corner table by the couch and pulled up his laptop, clicking himself in on the official website of his department and signing in where they held personal files. With a few more clicks, he found himself looking at an image of a young man, probably close to his own age. He had amber eyes, dark brown hair, neatly trimmed eyebrows curving above that brought out the intensity of his eyes.

He wasn’t half-bad to look at. In fact, he dared to call him attractive.

The guy’s record was clean. Nothing indicated that he was dirty in any way. The matter that stood out the most to him was Reynolds’ economy when he let his eyes search over his yearly income in his job as a chief executive officer. He was rather wealthy. It wouldn’t make sense for him to turn against anyone for a small amount of money, so it had to be something else.

“You had a boyfriend, huh?”

In but a moment, Kaidan flipped down the screen as if he’d been caught watching something improper. He must’ve been too immersed in his thoughts to register John’s presence. 

Kaidan let his eyes look him over thoroughly.

John’s already dark hair was nearly black from the shower, the smell of peppermint wafting through the air as he refreshed stood there. The scent was seductive. Kaidan had allowed him to use his clothes, and he had chosen a grey tank top, as well as a couple of black sweatpants.

John grimaced, figuring he’d hit a sore spot. “Vega’s words, not mine.”

Tearing his eyes away, Kaidan cleared his throat.

“That a problem?” he found himself asking.

“I’m gay. It wouldn’t make any damn sense if it was. Chase McFuckface there was my last lay,” he replied, gesturing to the laptop as he passed him and grabbed a blood red apple form the fruit tray.

_How long has he been standing there, exactly?_

“Those files are classified.”

“I didn’t see much,” he replied with a shrug. “How’d you know it was him? Pretty sure I never gave you a last name.”

“A colleague, actually. Reynolds called up the police department after what happened.”

“So, Chase called you guys up out of... what, guilt?”

“Could be.”

John averted his eyes. “Yeah, right,” he murmured, unconvinced. “You don’t know the guy like I do. Chase is a jackass. He’s probably gonna tell you the whole sappy story that he’s ‘innocent’ and ‘didn’t mean to hurt a fly.’ He’ll somehow manage to pin all this shit on me and get away unscathed from attempted murder. Just like he always does.”

“No offense, but according to his records, it’s easier for me to trust this guy than it is to trust a stranger on the run from the cops.”

“Figures,” he replied, still not looking at him.

“So what’s the story here?”

The only change in John’s features was the brief twitch of his jaw.

Kaidan managed to take note of how John inconspicuously touched the tribal tattoo on his arm with the tips of his fingers. He peeked up again to see where the blue-eyed gaze had trailed, looking at some empty spot by his side as he rubbed the inked skin.

That’s when he noticed that there was a tribal line of weaker opacity, almost invisible, looking like it’d been removed it with a laser.

“We’ve got our differences.” 

Something told him that was everything he’d get out of John.

At least for now.

Kaidan nodded, taking the hint that the conversation was over.

“Anyways, I need to head down to Apollo’s in five so I can get a clearer picture of whatever is going on here,” he said, rising from the couch.

After their less than successful heart-to-heart, Kaidan reached for the remote. He flicked on the TV to interrupt the ghostly silence that followed before he wobbled over to the kitchen again.

Kaidan pulled up the fridge. “Want a beer?”

“Sure.”

He found himself becoming more and more curious about that tattoo of his. What it represented. According to John’s reaction, he was confident it had something to do about Reynolds. It was common for people to tattoo their lover’s name.

Kaidan flicked up a bottle.

“Oh, c’mon. You’ve got to be kidding me. That was completely legal,” John murmured, arms folded and hip pressed against the couch.

Kaidan looked at the screen, the ref holding up a yellow card.

“Didn’t know you were a sports guy,” he said, handing him the beer.

“Not really, but it’s better than a documentary about cleaning products,” he replied, lifting the bottle to his lips.

Kaidan chortled. “Well, I guess we can both agree on that one.”

“Soon over anyways. Looks like an action flick is coming up next.”

Kaidan wasn’t big on sports himself. Judging by his Canadian heritage, people often teased him about hockey, but he didn’t really have an attachment to it.

His phone chimed again and had him reach for his pocket.

It was a message from Ash.

> _**10:42, ASH:** ‘Kaid, get your ass down here! Sorry to interrupt your honeymoon, but bros before hoes, yeah?’_

“I’ve got to go,” Kaidan said, scooping up his jacket as he headed for the door. “Make yourself at home.”

John gave him a curt nod, and in a moment, Kaidan was out the door. He turned his attention back to the phone, clumsily shrugging into the coat as he went and typed in a reply.

> _**10:44, KAIDAN:** ‘Sorry. Got caught up in time. I’m on my way’_
> 
> **10:45, ASH:** ‘Caught up in *dat ass,* amirite? ;)’
> 
> _**10:45, KAIDAN:** ‘You’re a terrible person’_
> 
> _**10:46, ASH:** ‘ILY2 xoxo’_

 

*

The distinct scents of caffeine, cigarettes and smoke washed through the air around him. Kaidan had been on Apollo’s once before. It was the corner café a couple blocks away from the nightclub. The prices were manageable, and the foods didn’t taste like cardboard. The downside? They didn’t have Canadian lager. Hell, if he was to rate the place, that very reason was enough for him to bump the rating down one star.

Most of the applicable tables were usually already taken. Today was no exception. Then again, he wasn’t planning on staying for long.

“So what do you think?”

Kaidan shrugged, torn from his thoughts. “Bitter. Kinda lukewarm. Not the best I’ve ever had, but at least it tastes like coffee,” he said with a smirk behind his mug, earning an eye roll from Ashley.

“I mean the victim, numbskull,” she replied, although there was no bite in it.

“Don’t know for sure,” he said, inhaling a sharp breath as he leant back to slowly blow it out again. “The sensible choice would be either a robbery gone wrong, or rival gangs at the same place where the ends happen to have met. After we’ve taken those DNA tests from the bullet and blood, we’ll be able to identify him -or, her.”

He took a long sip of his coffee, hoping she hadn’t notice his slip-up.

She hadn’t.

Ashley trimmed her nails at the table, looking out over the streets. “I don’t know, Kaid. I’ve got a bad feeling about this thing.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, as if... as if this is part of something bigger, get my meaning? That we’re way over our heads,” she replied. “This thing, it just... it reminds me of my sister.”

“You mean what happened with Mike?”

Ashley sighed, frowning deeply. “I mean, the scene’s kinda similar. Bloodied sidewalks, forlorn lovers... yeah,” she murmured, and bit into her lower lip. “After, uh... after Sarah’s boyfriend unsuccessfully attacked her, he looked so... sad, I guess. At one point, I was happy. Thrilled, actually. Sarah wasn’t ready to go all the way in the relationship and he should’ve respected that, but... he didn’t. When she finally told the police -- which she had avoided for so long -- the guy was just... broken. I saw the same look on Reynolds here.”

“I noticed it, too,” he said after a pause. “Nevertheless, we don’t know the full story here. All I know is that Reynolds is holding something back. I don’t know what, or why, but it’s there.”

“Would’ve been a lot easier if we got our hands on the victim.”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah. It would, but... we don’t,” he muttered, refusing to meet her eye not to give anything away. “We’ve got to work with what we have for the time being. First thing in the morning, I’m going to have a more thorough chat with Reynolds. Find out what he knows.”

“Just point and I’ll shoot.”

Kaidan cringed. “Let, uh... let me talk to him first, yeah?”

Ashley pouted.

The crime scene didn’t exactly look like a butchery, but there was blood, and the distinct smell would never leave him. He’d located the bullet itself underneath a worn, dark-green dumpster, a couple rats scurrying his way that made him pull out his gun in mere reflex. Ashley’s commentary didn’t help. She’d spoken with the police officers while he pushed aside and crouched under the yellow police tape that circled the area.

Ashley asked him if she should be the one to talk to Reynolds, but Kaidan wanted him alive and not traumatized for life, so sending a Williams his way wasn’t the best idea.

Let’s just say that Ash did a better job than him at the whole Bad Cop shtick.

He came face-to-face with Reynolds at some point, and after they talked, Kaidan decided that he was full of crap. John was right. According to Reynolds, he knew nothing of the guys that jumped John, but Kaidan had been in the business a long time. He knew when people were lying or avoiding to tell him the whole truth. Kaidan didn’t get much out of him at this point -- only that he and John were an item and they broke up -- so he decided to bring him to the police station.

There was a mixture of fear and guilt in Reynolds’ eyes.

He was all too familiar with it.

Kaidan had seen that same look in the mirror.

When the bar owner of Apollo’s gave them a coffee refill for the road, Kaidan let his eyes fall to her nameplate.

“Excuse me, ma’am. Aethya... T’Soni?”

“Aethyta. Don’t worry, kid. Everyone gets it wrong,” she replied. “So what can I get you, hot stuff?”

His cheeks started burning. “Oh, uh... nothing. I just...” he said, hearing Ashley snort behind her hand. “If you don’t mind my asking, I, uh... I met a woman the other day. Liara. She shared the same last name as you. Are you related?”

Aethyta’s features mellowed.

“Liara? I see,” she replied, expression somber. “Truth is, I was never in the kid’s life. Her mother Benezia and I separated after a couple ‘o arguments that got too heated. I let her have the kid. I was never good with ‘em.”

_Well, now I feel like an ass._

“I -I’m sorry to hear that, ma’am. I didn’t mean to -”

Aethyta shook her head. “Don’t worry, kid. It’s fine. I just had no idea she was here.”

“Recently transferred, actually. I’m not one to tell you what to do, but she, uh... she’d probably appreciate your help in getting around.”

Silence.

“I’ll think about it, kid. Thanks,” she replied, with a hint of smile.

Ashley took the word. “Excuse me to break in, ma’am. As you know, we’re looking into the alleyway shooting two nights ago. We were hoping you might have some intel on what was going on? Any witnesses or strange encounters. Anything helps.”

“Ah, that. Crazy thing. I heard the news broadcast,” Aethyta replied, seeming glad that the topic was dropped. “It was a gang affair, I reckon. That shit happens a lot around here. Bar fights I can deal with -- packs one hell of a show although I’m not too happy with ‘em destroying my café -- but these things? I’ve thankfully only ever dealt with one shootout here at Apollo’s.

“Yesterday before the time of the shooting, a couple strange folks came by. Looked up to no good. I never really thought too much about it, as all kinds of people pass through here, but there was something ‘bout ‘em that set me on edge. One guy had short-cropped dark brown hair. Sleazy kid. Punchable face. I would’a kneecapped him just to wipe that stupid shit-eating grin off, but that tends to make the customers nervous. Doesn’t do well for business, either. I’ve got to pay my bills.”

Kaidan winced. “That’s... understandable.”

“I like your style,” Ashley said.

Aethyta winked at her. “He was with another guy. Think I heard the name ‘Curt’ in their banter. Strange kid. Clumsy. One hell of a duo the two were, that’s for sure. They passed by the café, headed that direction,” she said, tilting her head and their gazes following. “When they came back, they had about three other people with ‘em. About fifteen minutes later, I heard the gunshot.”

“Thanks, Aethyta,” she said. “That helps a lot. We’ll get to the bottom of all this.”

“There was one more name that came up in all this. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. ‘Shepard.’ If you didn’t know already, guy’s kind of an infamous criminal around here.”

Kaidan watched Ashley’s brows shoot up. She looked perplexed.

If Shepard was part of all this, then hell, the Spectres’ might’ve hit the jackpot. That was the reason why Kaidan was in New York specifically. He’d been tasked to find Shepard and bring him in.

“Wait, what does Shepard have to do about all this?” Ashley asked, her brow dangerously furrowed.

“Believe it or not, but he’s the guy who got shot.”

Kaidan froze.

“What?” Ashley asked, crossing her arms. “How do you know this?”

“I heard ‘em chatting. Said something about a deal. I saw some guy stumble out of that ally. He looked hurt, but it was too dark to see his face. When I tried to find him, he was just gone.”

With a snap of her fingers, Ashley tore him from his trance. Kaidan’s attention turned to the living question mark on her face.

“Kaid, you okay? Man, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Kaidan closed his eyes. “I... yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Just the remnants of yesterday’s migraine.”

She pursed her mouth, but after he felt like he was being one-upped and scrutinized for being a bad liar, Ashley nodded and let it go. He wanted to breathe out in relief, but the lump in the back of his throat made such a gesture impossible.

He cleared his throat and turned to Aethyta with a “thank you for your cooperation” before heading for the car.

Shepard.

The name of the most infamous criminal out there was _John_ Shepard.

...and he was currently in his apartment.

“Hey, uh... Ash,” Kaidan tried, as she swung up the car door. She quirked a brow at him. “You go on ahead. I have a few people I’d like to talk to before heading back. You’ll get home safely?”

“Sure, Kaid. Call me if there’s anything, yeah?”

“I will.”

“Pinky promise?” she asked behind her lashes.

Kaidan rolled his eyes, smiling. “Promise,” he replied, threw her the keys and kissed her cheek.

He watched her drive out of the driveway before turning on his heel, heading the opposite direction.

 

*

“You knew about this?”

Garrus shrugged, having dragged him to the backroom. “I’m a bartender. Information is part of the job.”

“So you knew about Shepard, and yet, you had me bring that very infamous criminal to my damn apartment?” Kaidan asked, flabbergasted. “How am I supposed to be okay with that? Hell, I could be the next body they scoop up on these streets!”

“I told you, Kaidan. He’d not a bad guy,” he replied, holding up a hand when Kaidan opened his mouth to speak up “...and before you call me out for being delusional, I’ll have you know I was myself assigned to a Spec Ops mission to retrieve John Shepard. I know what he’s capable of. What he’s done. I didn’t walk into this thing blindly.”

Kaidan features softened. “You were a Spectre?”

“I was, or... accommodated... to become one, that is. My mission was to find Shepard and bring him in. After that, the higher ups would decide whether or not I was qualified.”

“I... I don’t understand. You found him, but you didn’t turn him in?” he asked, incapable of rational thought.

“I didn’t, because I was fortunate to get to know him first. I know what kind of guy he is. He’s misunderstood and prejudged. I dropped out and didn’t share the info with the higher ups after learning that. If I reported back with what I knew, he’d spend the rest of his life in jail.”

“For good reason!”

“Save me the morality speech, Kaidan.” He sounded defeated, but remained a calm demeanor. “Like I told you, I was considered as a Spectre. I got to see his classified files. I know what I’m talking about. Still, would you blame a child for delivering the final blow when his life -- or someone he loved -- was threatened? You of all people should know that.”

Kaidan swallowed hard, the nausea building up.

“That -that’s different. He’s a grown damn man, and I was -” he tried, but immediately pinched his eyes shut. “You know I regret what I did, and hell, if I could undo it... I would. It doesn’t make it okay, far from it, but I regret it. I made a mistake.”

“Then put yourself in his shoes. Talk to him. After that, make your choice... but not before. If you don’t trust him, trust me.”

_Just had to pull that one, huh?_

“I better not regret this.”

Garrus smiled. “You won’t. Count on that.”

 

*

With a practiced hand, Kaidan pushed open his apartment door and stepped over the threshold, pretending that everything was in order not to arouse suspicion. Then again, he couldn’t deny the quickened, trembling heartbeats behind his rib cage. He remained his calm posture as John -- John _Shepard_ \-- emerged from the bedroom.

John caught his eye. “Talk to Chase yet?”

“I did, actually,” he replied, closing the door behind him.

“And?”

“I believe you. He was a piece of work. I know where I stand,” he said, maintaining his professional composure. “We found the bullet, too. The department is currently awaiting the test results.”

John’s brows furrowed. “Test results, huh?”

The air was thick.

“DNA tests to help us identify whom you are. Garrus wasn’t much help, but I knew something was up when he refused to talk,” he muttered, knowing he was threading thin ice.

His right hand twitched.

John’s eyes fell down, the rest of his body unmoving.

Sweat began to emerge on Kaidan’s forehead.

As he reached for the gun stuffed in his pants by his lower back, John did the same, and there they stood. Unyielding. Face to face, gun to gun, their gazes unwavering in the suffocating silence.

His heart was beating vehemently.

_Had he always carried that around?_

“I know who you are. John Shepard. You’re kind of infamous around here,” Kaidan said, eyes transfixed at the unreadable form before him.

“You’re too kind,” he muttered, tone mocking. “So you’re not just a pretty face after all.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“Shame. I was really starting to warm up to you,” he replied, but his tone was nowhere near genuine. “So let me guess... a SWAT team is on its way and now you’re simply buying yourself some time?”

“No.”

John’s brows furrowed further. “Yet here you are, staring down the barrel on something you know is known to disappear. You didn’t really think you’d manage to take me down on your own, huh? You can’t possibly be that stupid.”

“I came alone because I wanted to talk. No exchange of bullets. Just words.”

“Sorry, sweetheart. Trust ain’t far up on my list. You’re gonna turn me in the moment I lay down my arms.”

Kaidan squinted his eyes. “I can’t let you go. That’s a fact. Doesn’t necessarily mean I have to turn you in. It’s called leverage,” he replied, watching John’s brow furrow deeper and the twitch as his jaw clenched. “You help with the current investigation to bring down the Tenth Street Reds, and hell, I’ll put in a good word for you. Reduce your sentence.”

“I’d rather die than gain new enemies and rot in a cell.”

“You don’t owe them anything.”

“Cooperating with the cops tends to put a higher bounty on one’s head. Get my meaning? I’d rather have grunts with personal feuds against me than the whole damn street. I did what I had to do to survive. If I take up arms against ‘em, I’ve got nowhere to go. They know my identity and they’ll kill people I care about, all just to get to me. Once you get in, you can’t get out.”

John fell into a pause. “No matter how much you’d want to.”

“We can protect you.”

“Your common jarheads just want to see me behind bars. ‘Justice.’ They don’t give a fuck whether I regretted what I did or not.”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Because nothing is as black and white as people seem to believe. I want to help. A big gun and a confident attitude can get you through a lot in life, but your luck is bound to run out at some point. Just... trust me.”

Silence.

“I don’t, but I’m fucking desperate. What are you suggesting?”

“I’ll keep your identity to myself. So far, no one knows. I just need you to cooperate with me,” he replied, taking a moment to rephrase. “Your involvement will be kept under wraps. The Reds will never know you’ve traded information with us, and if they somehow do find out, then hell... my superiors can arrange protection.”

Another suffocation moment of silence wafted through the air.

Much to his surprise, John slowly lowered his weapon, pulling on the safety. His cooperation did once again take him off-guard. It didn’t take long before Kaidan lowered his own.

“What made you change your mind?” he asked, voice careful as John threw the gun onto the table beside.

“Vyrnus.”

His body went rigid.

Blue eyes narrowed to slits. “I knew once I saw your last name on that badge. ‘Alenko, the perfect student who wouldn’t hurt a fly.’ Perfect cover,” he added, adding to the consistency of Kaidan’s restlessly beating heart. “No one suspected it was you, and hell, those kids back on that academy in Vancouver that witnessed the whole thing? They were too scared of you to tell the authorities that you’re a killer. I know you’re here now -- in New York -- to escape the sentence laid out to you.”

“I... it’s not that simple.”

“Yeah? Enlighten me, then.”

“Vyrnus threatened a friend of mine. He hurt Rahna. Broke her arm,” Kaidan said, the desperation creeping up on him like a ghost without feet. “She reached for a glass of water during training. She was exhausted, unable to do all those reps he pulled on us, knowing she would’ve collapsed. Like an idiot, I stood up. Didn’t know what I was going to do, just... something. And Vyrnus lost it. I couldn’t let him get away with that.”

“So you killed him?”

“I didn’t mean to,” he warned, jaw locked tight.

John’s hand closed into a fist to bare his knuckles. “It’s like you said,” he began, holding him in place with an unwavering glare. “Nothing is as black and white as people seem to believe.”


	4. Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“That some kind of substitute to a Taser or some shit?”_   
>  _– John Shepard_
> 
> In which John compares Kaidan's cologne to a Taser (in the sense that Kaidan smells good and renders John immobile.)

The police department was just as cheery as John remembered.

Clear of dust, confined and incarcerated, smelling of lukewarm coffee and newly-pressed uniforms, the jingle of handcuffs and keys echoing the halls, stuck-up officers swaggering the mostly empty pathways like they were on the top of the world.

Last time he was there was just about fifteen years ago. He was a kid running in circles through his dad’s office with a model spacecraft, making engine sounds, taking what little he had of his childhood to the extreme. John had always been fascinated by space. By science fiction and science in general. The more you understood of the world the less likely you were to end up dead in some ditch.

He had been taught that having fun just for the sake of having fun was wrong, and taking that into consideration, he never had the chance of a real childhood.

First ‘toy’ ever shoved into his hand was a loaded gun, three bullets, and instructions to crack a store window.

Down the hall, his gaze was directed at the plain grey door before him that beckoned him closer. A sharp pain swept up his arm, clasping his shoulder as some asshole had bumped into him without even bothering to apologize.

Like he wasn’t even there.

Just empty air.

At this point, he was used to it.

“Hey,” the officer said, but John kept walking. “Hey, kid! I’m talking to you.”

John stopped, taking a deep breath through his nose, calming himself down.

He plastered on a smile and spiraled around. “May I help you, offic -?” he said, only to jerk a step back as he’d ended up face-to-face with the guy he could’ve sworn was at the opposite end of the hallway.

“What the hell are you doing here? This isn’t a damn bar.” The officer grasped his arm, yanking him in.

“Whoa, hey -hey! Easy with the leather. It’s _Versace,”_ John said, flaunting his sarcasm.

“Don’t make me laugh. As if you could afford it,” he replied, nails like talons burying into his bicep nearly making him squirm. “Now tell me what a godforsaken street urchin without handcuffs and a black eye is doing here.”

“Your daughter. She’s a kinky girl, that one. We might use those handcuffs after all.”

The officer looked ready to tear him in half, but seemed to consider his answer. With narrowed eyes, he looked him up and down. He showed no signs of letting go of his arm.

If anything, he squeezed harder.

“I see. You’re Anderson’s protégé, aren’t you?” he finally asked, scowling. “Well, then. Daddy dearest isn’t here to help you now, is he? I could throw you in a cell right now and he wouldn’t know. Only solution to shutting up a smartass like you.”

John frowned. “Throw me in a cell for what? You don’t have proof for shit.”

“I don’t need proof. Only a convincing story.”

“Careful, old man... or you’ll be the one with a black eye.”

“Why you little -”

“Arterius, stand down,” came a familiar, honeyed and now somewhat sharp voice.

John froze.

Arterius.

He knew that name.

Saren Arterius were one of those fuckers intent on finding him. A Spectre. Anderson had told him about them.

John swallowed hard under his gaze. It was as if his clear blue orbs bore straight into his soul. The vibration of a low growling sound emitted from his crooked mouth, sending cold shivers down his spine, nails digging into tender flesh.

“He’s with me,” Alenko added.

“This lousy back-talker of wasted air just threatened a senior officer, Alenko. If Anderson won’t put his kid in place –- teach him some damn respect -- someone has to,” Arterius spat.

“It won’t happen again, sir.”

Arterius fell into a pause, but he eventually let up his grip and settled for a shove that nearly knocked John off his feet.

“See to it that it won’t.”

John fought the urge to rub the area of effect, but settled for balling his hands into fists, eyes unmoving as he watched Arterius turn and continue on his way as he grumbled unintelligibly to himself.

Alenko sighed, regaining his attention. “Sorry about that. Saren takes his job seriously.”

“Are all of you people corrupt?” he asked agitated as he turned.

Alenko stood by an open door, arms folded across his chest, his expression drained as if he’d missed his daily cup of coffee. John straightened his back. It didn’t look like he needed this right now. With a cock of his head, he was gestured to follow him down another hallway.

“Thankfully, no,” Alenko said as they walked. “Saren’s always been kind of an ass. I’m surprised Anderson hasn’t mentioned him.”

He had, but not in this context.

“Why would he?”

“They’ve got somewhat of a personal feud. Collaborated for a mission that went FUBAR where Saren made the decision of blowing up a refinery, killing hundreds of civilians in the process. He did it without any hesitation or mercy. Couldn’t care less about the lives that was lost and the families that were torn apart. Worst of all, he blamed Anderson. Said he had ‘blown his cover.’ He’s been in the force longer than Anderson has -- being one of our most respected officers -- so the authorities ate it up.”

Saren should be glad he wasn’t there right now.

John would’ve killed him.

Alenko swung up another door, and across the floorboards, he watched Chase’s amber eyes go wide. John let his gaze fall. Chase was propped up in a singular chair in the interrogation room, his wrists slapped in iron, the hands trapped by them clutched so hard the knuckles were white.

“I’ll, uh... I’ll leave you two to talk,” Alenko said, heading for the exit.

After yesterday’s confrontation, it didn’t take much effort to notice how Alenko seemed far more resigned. Careful. On edge. He was a smart guy, no doubt, and he wasn’t letting down his guard anytime soon. Alenko had called him over to get some information out of Chase, and logically, John didn’t waste a moment to head down and meet up with him.

He had a thing or two to say to him.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” John said, taking another step inside.

“John, thank god you’re all right -”

“Spare me,” he snapped, watching the expression before him mellow in feigned hurt. “Sorry to break it to you, pal. Finch was never a good shot. You should’ve hired a better assassin.”

“C’mon, babe. You don’t honestly believe that I tried to hurt you, right?”

It came out frail. Small. Apologetic.

John withered in disgust at how Chase’s tone had softened, remembering how that penetrating voice used to be his whole world, his safe place away from all of his troubles. Now, it was nothing but a withering cry, a reminder of all the mistakes that he had made. Trusting Chase was one of them. A mistake that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

He towered over him as he palmed determined hands at the table with an accompanying scowl.

“You don’t have the right to call me that,” John said, not easily swayed. “We both know why you turned against me. Your pride’s always been important to you.”

Chase clenched his jaw, his eyes beginning to burn with an undistinguishable fury.

His breathing turned heavier.

John had hit the nail on the head.

“I know what the hell you’re playing at, Chase,” he added, staring him down. “You’re too fucking high and proud. A poor fucking rich-kid who expects to have anything his way -- someone who expects everything to be served on a silver fucking platter –- and when that doesn’t happen, you want to erase all evidence, and I happened to be evidence walking.”

“Laugh it up all you want, but you can’t un-suck this dick,” he replied. “Sorry that I hurt your precious feelings.”

It took everything out of him not to uppercut the bastard.

“You’re not exactly in the position of shit-talking me.”

Chase frowned. “And what if I did anyways? You’d kill me? As if.”

“How do you think I knew the guy in the ally, huh? The guy you paid? Finch. Guy’s a scumbag grunt. A member of the Tenth Street Reds. I’m sure you’re already aware of that. Thing is, so am I. Difference is, I happen to be one of their front men.”

“What?” he asked, brows furrowed.

“The name ‘Shepard’ ring any bell to you?”

Chase’s eyes went wide.

“Who’s gonna believe you, huh?” John asked, revering in the pure look of terror before him. “For all they know, I’m just David Anderson’s son. One of their most respected officers. No way he would raise a killer... and before you get all ‘smart and cocky’ up your ass, I’ll have you know that I turned off the sound systems before I walked in here. I can off you right now and no one would know. How’s that sound, huh?”

Of course, it was a one-way mirror, but Chase was too much of an idiot to know that.

 

*

Kaidan tapped the speakers. “What the hell? This thing is supposed to be on.”

“Must’ve been a fault in the systems. The kid looks spooked. I wonder what your friend said to him,” Ashley said, stepping up before the one-way mirror. “Think we should go in?”

He considered it, but they probably had a lot of steam to sort out.

“Let them talk.”

Ashley pursed her mouth. “I don’t know about this, Kaid. Are you sure you can trust this ‘John’ guy?”

_Hell no._

“John’s a... good... guy. I wouldn’t allow him in my apartment if he wasn’t. I know what I’m doing, Ash.”

“Psh. Yeah, right. I might’ve believed you if you weren’t constantly giving him the gooey-eyes,” she murmured, earning her a scoff. “Look, he’s cute, and those baby-blue eyes of his is a crime itself -- shit, I’ve looked his way, too –- and his ass is great... but something about him is rubbing me the wrong way. We know nothing about him other than that he’s Anderson’s kid.”

Her voice softened. “I just... I don’t want you to get hurt, is all.”

_You’re far closer to the truth than you believe, Ash._

“I get it,” he replied “...and thanks, but really, I’m good -”

The door swung open.

Kaidan released his arms, turning the way of the commotion. John stepped out. He looked undisturbed.

“Anything?” Kaidan asked.

“Ask him yourself,” he replied, beginning to move towards the coffee can to pour himself some liquefied caffeine and flopped down in a nearby chair by the monitors.

Narrowing his eyes, Kaidan turned to the one-way mirror.

The suspect looked on-edge as he was tapping his feet against the floorboards. Kaidan wasn’t too big on leaving Ashley with John, but he seemed entirely disinterested in causing any havoc. He let it slide for now. They were in the middle of a police department, so hell, John had to be smart enough not to draw any attention to himself.

Kaidan stepped into the interrogation room where Chase sat ready to be interviewed once more. He was staring blankly at the ground, jaw clenched and still tapping with his feet, looking even more on-edge than before.

Clearing his throat, Kaidan plopped down at the table with a new list of questions on a clipboard.

“All right, Reynolds. This’d be a lot easier if you simply cooperated -”

“I didn’t want him dead, okay?” he snapped, taking him aback. “It just... hell, things got out of hand. Fuck. I didn’t want this.”

Kaidan let him speak.

“Two weeks ago, we were... John and I were an item. I already told you that,” Reynolds’ said, biting into his lower lip. “We’d been together for close to three months by then. I was never at his place; he was never at mine, either. We usually met up in town and shit for dates or whatever. I knew he was Anderson’s kid, but I never met the guy, and John never met my parents in return.”

He watched Reynolds shift in his seat. “The whole thing between us just didn’t seem like something serious, you know, so I just... I –I had a guy over, that’s all! Nothing big, and suddenly he steps in, just freaks out and dumps me.”

“Simply put, you cheated on him.”

“I –Fuck, yes! Okay? Yes, I did,” he spat, agitated. “Hell, he probably fucked loads of guys while I was away.”

“How can you possibly know that?”

Reynolds scowled. “Have you seen the guy? Guy couldn’t keep it in his pants even if he tried.”

“Just because you cheated doesn’t mean everyone does.”

“It doesn’t fucking matter, okay?” he snapped again, leaning in. “I didn’t want him dead, I just... wanted ‘em to roughen him up a little.”

Kaidan arched a brow, considering his options.

“So, this whole thing is simply about a dispute between forlorn lovers?” he asked rhetorically. With a sigh, Kaidan rubbed his eyes with an index finger and thumb. “Oh, for god’s sake...”

_This... this is ridiculous._

“All right, then. What do you know about the guys that you paid?” Kaidan asked.

“Fuck, man. You don’t know what I know. I don’t... I don’t want to piss Sh -John off any more.”

“I know more than you give me credit for, Reynolds,” he replied. “Trust me; you’ll want to tell us everything you know. Don’t hold back. If you do hold back, you’ll be spending one hell of a lot more time behind bars. I’m sure you don’t want that.”

Silence.

“Finch,” he finally said.

“Hmm?”

“The –the guy I paid. His name’s Finch. He’s part of the Tenth Street Reds, I hear.”

“From whom?” Kaidan asked.

“...John.”

“John said that, huh?” he asked, tapping his pen. “What else did he say?”

Reynolds remained silent.

“You’re afraid of John Anderson, is that it?” Kaidan claimed, taking his silence as a ‘yes.’ “Okay, I understand. That’s reasonable considering everything that’s been going on. There’s a lot of bad blood between the two of you, I get that, and I’m not here to pick any sides. I just want to know what happened. Whatever you believe that, uh... that John’s gonna do... we won’t let that happen. That’s a promise.

“I just need you to cooperate and then we can both walk out of this door with fresh air but a hint closer. No doubt, you will be charged for first-degree murder, but how long your sentence will be depends on your cooperation.”

Averting his eyes, Reynolds bit into his lip again.

“His... his real name is, uh... is John Shepard. He told me. Said no one would believe me ‘cause he’s Anderson’s son.”

“All right, thanks for the information. We’ll certainly be looking into this. You made our job one hell of a lot easier, Reynolds,” Kaidan said, smiling, as he pushed up from the table.

Reynolds’ eyes shot open, stunned by the abrupt end of conversation. “You believe me?”

“I keep an open mind,” he said, winking.

With a push of the door, Kaidan was out. Ashley stood with her arms folded by the one-way mirror and John was exactly where he left him. He’d finished his coffee and parted from his jacket, though.

“I couldn’t get the sound systems working again, so I’ll need a debriefing,” she said.

He caught the small smirk curving John’s lips.

Kaidan rolled his eyes.

Of course John was the one responsible for that.

“While you were in there, your phone’s been ringing,” Ash added.

“Probably turned up more evidence, I take it,” he replied, working his way over to the table. Kaidan shuffled up his phone. Looking down at the contact, his features mellowed. “Huh. It’s, uh... it’s my mom.”

Ashley frowned as he called her up again, bringing it to his ear.

 _“Hi, sweetie,”_ came a familiar voice at the other end, but it didn’t take much effort to hear the strain in it.

She’d been crying.

“Hey, mom. What’s going on? Are you okay?” he asked, an uncomfortable lump forming in the back of his throat.

Kaidan despised seeing his mom cry. Hearing it was nowhere near any better.

He saw John’s eyes peek up in the glass reflection. Ashley watched him closely. There was a certain resigned look about her.

_“I’m fine. I just received a tough phone call, is all.”_

“Mom, this -what’s this about? Don’t keep me in the dark, here.”

_“It’s your dad.”_

Kaidan frowned. “Wait, dad? Isn’t he –isn’t he deployed on active duty in Vancouver right now? One last mission before he retired? What about him?” he asked, pacing the room as the anxiety crumpled his stomach.

_“He... he’s reported MIA, sweetie. Something about a bombing. They... they’re investigating it now.”_

His body went rigid.

“But... they haven’t found anything, right?”

_“No, sweetie. Not yet.”_

“So he could –dad could still be alive.”

 _“It’s looking grim, honey, but... we have to hope for the best. Always. The both of us,”_ she replied, tone weary. _“I figured you wanted to know, even if nothing is solid just yet. When anything else shows up, I’ll uh... I’ll call you back up, okay?”_

“Yeah... yeah, okay.”

 _“We’ll talk later, sweetie. I –I have to get back to it, okay? I love you,”_ she said, him hearing the strained smile on her lips.

“Love you, too,” he muttered, and with that, she hung up.

He knew she wanted to cry. He knew the conversation ended so abruptly because of that very reason. His mom was a strong woman. A fighter. She avoided showing any signs of weaknesses in front of her kid. It had always been like that. Military wives were of the tough sort, and hell, he knew that all too well. He could still remember gazing out his Vancouver window as a kid and waiting for dad to come home. Waiting through fall, to winter, to spring, and finally back to summer.

He kept asking his mom when dad would come back. She always gave encouraging words and gentle smiles that let him know that everything was going to be all right. That dad was coming home.

He wasn’t that kid anymore, and now, he was preparing for that summer to pass without a word.

It didn’t make it any easier.

“Kaid... you all right?” came Ashley’s voice, gentler than he’d ever heard her, as he stared down at the phone.

He cleared his throat. Kaidan quickly wiped his eyes with his thumb and forefinger and straightened his back.

“Yeah, I’m good. Just, uh... yeah. Dad’s, uh... he’s MIA.”

Ashley knew him well enough by now. She knew he wasn’t a guy who sought comfort. Not anymore.

He wasn’t that kid anymore.

Averting his eyes, he wanted something else to focus on.

Kaidan frowned, searching the room. “Wait. Where’s, uh... where’s John?”

“He was here a minute ago,” she replied, casting a suspicious glance above her shoulder towards the abandoned chair. Only coffee ring stains and his leather jacket were left at the plain round table.

“Dammit,” Kaidan muttered, taking to his feet. He couldn’t have gotten far.

 

*

John couldn’t stay back there. Couldn’t hear the whole sob story that presented itself. It wasn’t an option. Knowing about stuff like that made you _care_ and he wasn’t about to let that stand in the way.

Alenko wasn’t getting under his skin.

Arms thrown over the banister outside the police department, John stared out on the streets, observing as cars of different shapes and sizes flew by. A couple motorcycles joined the queue, followed by two minivans, then a supposed environmental-friendlier one. A _Ford Fusion Hybrid_ if memory served him right. There were some strange vehicles that only a guy of his stature could find the matching parts for.

Being a mechanic, he knew cars and MC’s inside out, knowing just when to replace the oil or when to save up for a new engine before the old one broke down in the middle of a freeway.

A gush of wind went down his spine as the door flew open.

John blew out a haze of smoke.

“Relax, Sherlock. I’m still here. I’d never leave my jacket, either. Can’t a guy get a coffee refill without alerting the whole district?” he asked, staring into the tacky ‘Enkindle This’ mug steaming of shit-tasting coffee.

Must’ve been a police gig.

“Can’t be too careful,” he replied.

Shuffling up to stand beside him, Alenko shoved his hands deep into his pockets and joined him. John kept his eyes peeled on the streets before him. A comfortable silence befell them.

“Sorry about your dad.”

In his peripheral vision, a jaw clenched. “What’s it to you?”

“Just... making conversation.”

“Next topic?”

John cocked his head towards him, expecting to catch a hint of his reaction, the frown by Alenko’s brow making him appear ten years older as they wrinkled his otherwise smooth forehead.

He sighed. “Look. If it’s to any comfort... I haven’t heard from my dad in a while, either.”

At first, he didn’t answer.

“Worried about him?”

“Not... really.”

Alenko pursed his mouth, but John couldn’t let the slight curving of his scarred lips go unnoticed. It was contagious. Directing his eyes to the smoke in hand, John quickly covered over the twist of his own mouth with a cough.

“You’re not very good at this, are you?”

John grimaced. “That obvious?”

“Yeah, that -that obvious,” he replied, and silence followed for a while. “I’ve been meaning to ask... how’d you know about Vyrnus?”

“Garrus mentioned some new guy walking into the bar one day. I took notice. Did what any smart guy needing an advantage would; I looked you up. You were too clean, Alenko. Had to be some dirt on you. Looks like I found it.”

Whiskey-brown eyes were steeled forward. “And what do you plan to do with that information?”

“Nothing. Yet.”

“Duly noted,” he replied, gaze unmoving“...and I’ll have you know that I don’t like this collaboration any more than you do.”

“Obviously. Would explain the gun you’re always carrying around. I doubt you’re just happy to see me.”

Alenko shifted, obviously hadn’t expected him to notice it.

“You’d be so lucky,” he replied, as deep, concentrated lines formed in his forehead. “Considering how you’ve managed to survive for so long, I take it you’ve got contacts. Know people on the inside. You know Anderson, sure, but I highly doubt he’d be okay with this. It... it’s not his style. He’s too much of a good guy to let this go unnoticed, you know?”

He knew Alenko’s carefully constructed sentence was an attempt at prying information out of him –- information if Anderson was involved or not -- but John wasn’t about to throw the guy who took him in under the bus.

Alenko’s resilience was starting to impress him.

“I’ll leave that up to your interpretation, detective. Who knows... maybe that Williams friend of yours is on the payroll, too?”

“You really are a dick, you know that?”

“Noticed that just now, did you?” he replied, shoving the smoke back in between his lips.

Alenko fell into a pause. “Ash wouldn’t do that.”

“You’re right. She wouldn’t,” he replied, watching as some lady threw a paper cup into the trash at the opposite end of the street. “Girl doesn’t have a bad bone in her, but she knows one hell of a lot more than you give her credit for. The term ‘Spectre’ say anything to you? She’s one of you. So is that Arterius scumbag. Garrus almost made it as well, but I bet he already told you.”

John smirked. “Guy loves to brag.”

Silence.

“Why are you telling me this?” Alenko asked, voice careful.

Brushing some lint off his shoulder, John frowned. “Just letting you know that not all your colleagues have good intentions. Some of ‘em are corrupt. They pick favorites. Get on their bad side, then hell, you might never see daylight again. They target individuals and shoves unrelated files into their folders just so that they can spend longer time behind bars. People gets blamed for crimes they didn’t commit.”

_Just like I was._

John was getting those damn files if his life so depended on it. He couldn’t give two craps about Alenko’s ‘reduce your sentence’ gig, but he played along anyways, knowing it was his best option.

Once he got what he came for, he was out.

He doubted that Alenko would let him into the archives once knowing his ulterior motive.

Cops didn’t do that.

“I’d keep an eye on Arterius, were I you,” John added.

He had enough dirt on him to suspect the guy.

Judging by the look on Alenko’s face, he seemed taken aback. “I’ll, uh... I’ll keep an eye out. If he’s dirty, we can’t have him in the forces. I’ll make some amends and have him investigated.”

Somehow, John believed him. Something about Alenko reeked of justice. Integrity.

Maybe trusting him wouldn’t be his downfall after all.

“He doesn’t know, right?” Alenko asked.

“If he did, he’d never let me walk out that door,” he replied, biting the inside of his cheek. “Now I know he’s got a feud against my dad, too. He’d have every reason to gut me right there in the hallway. If he can’t fuck with Anderson, he’d fuck with his kid, no doubt. Anything to put him in a bad light, I bet. Once it’s out that Anderson kept me away from the authorities, Arterius will have him disbarred from -”

John closed his eyes.

_Fuck._

“So... he knows,” Alenko said smug.

“Keep him out of this,” he warned, pinning him with a glare.

Alenko didn’t move. “I don’t want to step on any toes, I just... hell, I wanna know _why.”_

Averting his eyes, John clenched his jaw.

“He wants me to turn myself in. Reduce my sentence,” he muttered, feeling whiskey-brown eyes upon him. “He disapproves of what I do, but he trusts me, so he stays out of it. Like I said... keep him out of this. Guy’s not gonna suffer for what I’ve done. I owe him that much.”

Silence.

“I don’t get you, John. Your records are official. Proof that you’re only in it for yourself.”

John smirked. “Maybe you’re not giving me enough credit.”

“Or maybe you’re full of crap.”

“Point taken,” he replied, straightening. “So, do you trust me?”

Alenko frowned. “What? No! No one in their right mind would.”

“If you don’t believe me that I give a crap about the guy I consider my dad, settle for this explanation instead...” John said, meeting his critical eye. “If Anderson gets caught, I’ve got one less man on the inside, and that’ll scramble my influence in your department.”

“Let’s go with that one,” Kaidan said, heading towards the door. “Grab your jacket and let’s head back to my place. The sooner we can put an end to the Tenth Street Reds, the better, so let’s go.”

Shepard retraced his steps. “I’ll pretend not to be offended.”

“You’re a criminal.”

“And you’ve got a stick up your ass. How’s that for an answer?” he said with a scowl.

“You know... I’ve still got handcuffs on me. I could reacquaint you.”

“Threatening me with handcuffs, huh? That’s petty, Alenko. Even for a cop.”

“Listen, jackass -”

With Alenko’s abrupt turn before the door, he was forced to barge into a halt. Realization hit the brown hue. John just barely managed to lift from the ground and twist his shoulder enough to avoid the collision. It had occurred too fast to know exactly what happened, but if John hadn’t grasped his bicep to take the impact and shove him back about ten inches, his mouth would’ve touched his jawline.

Planted only inches apart, his nose registered Alenko’s cologne consisting of lavender and citrus, accompanied by a hint of aftershave. He had too blink a couple times through the immediate scent that rushed his way. His knees felt like mush as he was briefly rendered immobile.

Christ, he smelled amazing, and his body was reacting to it.

It pissed him off.

John quickly composed himself.

“That some kind of substitute to a Taser or some shit?” he asked with a light scowl, splaying fingers between his pecs to push himself away. He dropped his hand again. Anything to escape from whatever _that_ was.

Alenko blinked. “What?”

“That –whatever you’re wearing,” he replied, waving a hand.

“Armani Code?”

“The hell’s ‘Armani’?”

Alenko opened his mouth, only to close it again as he shut his eyes. “It –it doesn’t matter.”

It wasn’t before now when he was all ‘up and personal’ he took note of the three flecks above Alenko’s right brow. He let his eyes fall to see a quaint scar resting between his stubbled chin, directly below his lower lip, reaching from the left side to the right. He’d already seen the one directly across the side, but this one as smaller, being one he hadn’t noticed before.

He’d probably earned them after he went all Terminator on that Vyrnus guy.

Good hustle on that one.

Had some damn good lips, though. John hadn’t expected their gazes to collide once he peeked up again. He wasn’t sure what he expected. Nevertheless, it couldn’t keep his heart from racing.

Alenko shortly broke the gaze, beginning to move. “Car’s just down here.”

Just as he moved, John realized he’d been holding his breath.

_...fuck._


End file.
